


The Judgement of Solomon

by mybrotherharry



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Break Up, Canon-Typical Violence, Complicated Relationships, Love, M/M, Multi, Past Torture, Polyamory, Romance, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 12:11:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5927911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybrotherharry/pseuds/mybrotherharry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Let's do the math here - I love Steve, you love Steve. Steve loves me, Steve loves you," Barnes says, counting off of his fingers. "And yet, nobody is getting fucked and everybody is miserable. Steve won't have one of us because it hurts the other. Do you see where I am going with this?"</p><p>Tony literally feels his brain turn to mush. The unpleasant, ghastly, industry grade lubricant kind of mush. </p><p>"Are you suggesting - a threesome? Because Steve won't - "</p><p>"Ewww, no!" Barnes interjects and continues before Tony has the time to look properly insulted. "Nothing personal, Stark, but I used to mess around with your dad. So no, I have no desire to see you naked, ever."</p><p>That pronouncement promptly kills any and all desire Tony had felt stirring in his belly at the possibility of seeing Steve naked. Because - Barnes and Howard - no, just - no. No, no, no, thank you. No. </p><p>"Stark, you and I have a predicament. It is a shared, common predicament and I believe we can come to an arrangement."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Judgement of Solomon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bookaholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookaholic/gifts).



> This story involves one male character simultaneously pursuing a physical and romantic relationship with two other men. Everything is consensual. There is a scene where a character has a panic attack, induced by memories of past torture. If this may be triggering for you, please do not read. Stay safe! 
> 
> This story happened because Bookaholic prompted - "Steve caught between loving both Bucky and Tony."  
> Bookaholic, you are God's gift to me. Sherlock is a girl name.

See, this is why Tony Stark cannot have nice things.

That is not to say that he "has" Steve, because Steve is not property that one can own, but if he were, he would be a very nice thing - let's start over.

Tony is not allowed to have nice things, because usually the nice thing gets taken away by the universe in a spectacular show of 'ha you sucker!' Tony used to be lulled into a false sense of safety and happiness when he was given a nice thing, but now he has learned better. This is probably why he has spent the nine months of his relationship with Steve looking over his shoulder, waiting for the universe to snatch up all hundred and ninety pounds of star spangled fabulous that is his boyfriend.

Tony knew this was coming.

So when Steve calls him from D.C. on a burner cell phone after taking down a couple of helicarriers (as you do when you are Steve; what is even his life anymore?), he had been prepared for a variety of conversation topics ranging from _'so S.H.I.E.L.D. really love their German cheese cake, huh?'_ to _'did you know Barton used to be a circus carnie, according to the gazillion terrabytes of data Natasha just dropped on to the world wide web?'_

He had not been prepared for _'the winter soldier is actually James Buchanan Barnes.'_

Now, some people (cough *Natasha* cough) claim that Tony is hilariously self-indulgent and narcissistic. There is a certain degree of truth to that, one might say. However, in this moment, with Steve's raspy hospital voice sounding dangerously close to actual tears, Tony reels back a string of phrases like _'what does this mean for us?'_ and _'oh my god, are you fucking kidding me with this, universe?'_ and _'did he bring you flowers while putting bullets in you?'_ to say instead:

"Steve, what can I do to help? No, tell me, what do you need?"

See? Growth and maturity. Pepper would be fucking proud.

Of course, if he curls into a ball on the floor of the workshop after hanging up the phone and drinks vodka straight from the bottle while You and Butterfingers toss a Rubik's cube to each other, well, Pepper needn't know about that.

*

Steve stays in D.C. for another week, recuperating and plotting with Sam Wilson.

Tony sends flowers, cupcakes and a punching bag, because he knows and understands Steve Rogers better than he knows himself. He knows that 'recuperating' for Steve basically translates to consuming enough calories in a day that most people consume in a month, and then promptly working off said calories by beating something into oblivion. The flowers are just an added bonus.

If Tony has Jarvis discreetly look into Sam Wilson (and looking into someone has just gotten hilariously easy, what with secret government files being splashed all over the internet; thank you Natasha), well, nobody need be the wiser. For now, Sam is sufficiently sane company for Steve to go on a road trip across the country with. Tony offers to come along, but Steve turns him down (as Tony expects him to). This is intense and personal, and Tony knows better than to inflict himself on Steve while he struggles to get his best friend to have a come to Jesus moment.

Besides, he is kept sufficiently busy by Pepper in New York. The new S.H.I.E.L.D files on the internet mean that she has to do some serious house cleaning within SI, throwing out poisonous Hydra snakes and shutting down some questionable employee projects. Between weeding out one-fifth of his company and protecting Bruce from a suddenly very excited military, Tony barely thinks of Steve at all (only twice or thrice every minute).

There is next to no activity on the credit card Tony gave Steve, so wherever they are, they must be using hard cash. Tony pretends that it doesn't sting. He understands the need to lay low, but the rejection of the card feels to Tony like a rejection of him, when logically, it is anything but.

Nearly a month later, Steve calls him from a burner cell phone again. Seriously, Tony needs to teach him about secure phone lines and Jarvis' ability to protect any piece of communication, but whatever, Steve and his rituals are adorable when they are not exasperating as hell.

"We are in Arkansas."

"A majestic state indeed, my love."

"We have found what we came looking for."

Tony hears his heart thudding in his chest. He is proud of how normal his voice sounds when he answers. "Fantastic. Is there a return itinerary yet?"

"In a day. We are coming back to New York. There is a therapist friend of Sam's we would like to see."

"What can I do?"

"An apartment - somewhere discreet, NOT luxurious."

"I am insulted that you feel the need to mention - honestly, Steve, the tower - "

Steve sighs resignedly. "Too high-profile. I need something quieter."

"Fine, I will go real estate shopping for places in the Bronx. The BRONX, Steve, that is how much I love you - "

"I love you, too," Steve says automatically, even though Tony was joking, only, he really wasn't. The confirmation means more than Tony would care to admit at the moment, so he focusses on what Steve is saying.

"- doesn't have to be the Bronx, just something low profile and quiet, okay?"

"Alright, I will text you the information. Hang on to this phone for a bit."

"I will. I will see you soon, okay?"

"That will be nice," Tony says and has never meant anything more seriously in his life.

*

When Steve comes home, he is thinner, frailer and emotionally drained. He looks like death warmed over, but Tony figures having your long-thought-to-be-deceased best friend punch your guts out would do that to a man, so he gives him a pass.

Tony has Jarvis order them a lot of Steve's favorite comfort foods, makes plans to feed him and put the man to bed. This would have been easy if Steve hadn't decided to become a clingy pile of needy affectionate super soldier. Tony isn't exactly complaining.

They are lying curled around each other on the bed, on top of the covers because jeez, Steve runs hotter than the average human being. It is sweltering enough without a comforter; and Steve's lips press down the side of Tony's neck, marking him from the bottom of his ear to his collar bone. Steve has a neck fixation.

"Are we going to talk about it?" Tony asks, in another display of the growth and maturity Pepper would be so proud of.

"Yes," Steve answers, breathing over his ear. "But can we not - till later? I just want to stay here with you for a while."

"Anything," Tony promises, and is momentarily blinded by how honestly he means it. He has said the word to other people in his bed, usually meaning things like ' _I will fly you out to Paris for dinner_ ' and ' _Pepper, I will brave the omelette challenge for you_ ' but never has he meant what he means now; life and blood and heart and love and loss. Anything and everything if Steve asks.

Steve only asks for a cuddle and the occasional request to go backpacking to find his long-lost lover.

*

"He doesn't remember everything," Steve explains, when they sit together in front of the vast television screen. Jarvis is playing Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, and Ron has just started throwing up slugs, a visual representation of how Tony is feeling about this conversation. "It mostly comes and goes. He remembers who I am, and he remembers Brooklyn and parts of our childhood."

Steve is being the little spoon. They are both on the couch, Steve's legs stretched out along the length of the sofa, Tony's back to the armrest. Tony rubs his hand down Steve's arm sympathetically, holding him close as he sobs through the words.

"Natasha found all these files, we couldn't decrypt all of it and I brought the drive back for you to work your magic on - " Tony thrills at the praise, but reminds himself this is not about him. "They did something to his arm, and to parts of his brain that feel pain, so that they are desensitized. He doesn't feel pain on a normal scale. Tasha said it is elevated, and I don't want to think about what they could have done to him to achieve that - "

Steve is shaking again, and Tony does his best to hold him tight, embrace him around the chest and keep him from falling apart.

"He keeps standing around, waiting for orders. He stood through the first night - the whole night, and Sam and I didn't realize that he was waiting for permission to sit down. Tony, what do I - I don't even - Tony, Tony - "

"Hush, it's alright," Tony whispers, and runs his fingers through Steve's hair as he finally breaks, full out crying into Tony's chest.

*

The world's finest trauma psychiatrist is conducting research in Yemen.

It takes Pepper and Tony three days to convince the man that Manhattan is a nicer neighborhood to write groundbreaking scientific papers from than the Middle East. In the end, Tony shamelessly parades Bruce in front of the man during the video conference, and lets the two of them spend ten minutes geeking out over Neurobiology Today or some shit. Dr. Wahla agrees finally, and Tony owes Bruce a new state-of-the-art electron microscope. It takes another three days to work out a visa with the Department of Immigration, because of how national security is kinda a tin hat currently, what with the helicarriers floating in the Potomac.

When Dr. Wahla finally meets Barnes, he expressly throws Steve and Sam out of the room. Tony waits outside with Steve, holding his hand. He grits through the pain, making designs in his head of the new prosthetic hand he will _surely_ need after Steve is done pressing his bones to dust.

"I love him," Steve says to him in the hallway outside the tiny bedroom in the apartment Tony bought for him. "I have been in love with him for as long as I can remember."

Never let it be said that Steve Rogers has a good sense of timing, because he does not. Sam, meanwhile, is very tactfully pretending to be fascinated by the pink on beige wall paper. He is only about forty percent convincing.

"I know," Tony replies, because what else is he supposed to say? Steve looks surprised. "Of course I know. I have known all this while."

Tony watches as Steve takes deep breaths and counts to ten. It is his go-to technique when Tony is being annoying in the field or when he is on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Tony figures it is probably the latter at this very moment.

"Then, why are you - why didn't you - why are you still doing all of this?" Steve asks, in a manner that implies he already knows the answer.

"Because," Tony says, making sure his voice is clear and firm on this, because he needs the other man to know this. "Because my love for you has nothing to do with whether or not you love me back. Also, I really, really, really hate Hydra."

Steve looks thrown for a second, before looking highly affronted.

"You are wrong, Stark. I am in love with you too. I love you back as much as you love me. I just - love him too. Does that make sense?"

"Weirdly enough, yes," Tony answers, his heart feeling strangely big and chirpy.

*

Rhodey decides to come around and be all big-brotherly the next day.

Tony doesn't realize how much he has missed the big loon until he walks in the door.

"Done being pathetic in the army, then?" Tony asks by way of greeting. He is in the middle of soldering wires to a circuit board (he felt like being old school and getting his hands dirty, so sue him) when Rhodey shamelessly collapses on the couch in the workshop and steals all of Tony's leftover Chinese.

"Air force, you idiot. Came to save your dull ass," Rhodey remarks in the middle of swallowing around a mouthful of fried rice.

"My ass is living it up, thank you very much," Tony replies even though it is a blatant lie. His ass has not seen any action since Steve first went to D.C. Right now, Steve has too much going on for even Tony to be an inconsiderate idiot and press for sex.

They spend the next thirty minutes in absolute silence, which is the norm for them. In college, they used to spend hours sitting in the same room not saying a word to each other, Tony tinkering with whatever monstrosity he was working on at the time and Rhodey buried to the nose in textbooks.

"Are you alright?" Rhodey asks finally, and Tony knows he doesn't mean the burns on his hands from the soldering iron.

"There is no need for you to beat anyone up, if that's what you mean," he snarks back.

"I am serious, Tony."

Of course he is. Rhodey hardly ever takes any duty half-heartedly, even if he assumed the role of the older brother (that nobody asked him to, thank you very much) who needs to protect Tony from bad boys who go about breaking hearts. And isn't the notion just ridiculous - like Tony is the helpless one and Steve the heartbreaker.

Tony shrugs non-committal in response.

"I am just saying - this is a shitty situation for anyone to be in," Rhodey points out.

"I know," Tony sighs. "But we are making it work for now. I am guessing it won't last."

Rhodey's eyebrows go up questioningly.

"Come on, Rhodey," Tony shrugs. "He has known him for about ninety years now, and we only started dating when Steve thought Barnes was dead. I am not stupid."

There is another bout of silence, before Rhodey finally stretches back on the couch, the Chinese carton on his chest and says, "Lion King. We will do a proper Disney marathon at my place and I will take you out clubbing. Whenever it happens, whenever you need it, okay?"

"Whatever will I do without you, sugar muffin?" Tony bats his eyelashes at him.

"Thankfully for you, you will never have to find out."

All is right with the universe even when nothing is.

*

When Barnes goes nearly a month without a Winter Soldier episode, Steve starts pressing on Tony to come and see him. Tony looks forward to this as much as Clint looks forward to air vents cleaning day (which is to say, not at all).

_'Hello there, nice to meet you. Sorry about the decades of brainwashing. My boyfriend is the love of your life, and I think you might be his.'_

Talk about awkward. If Pepper hears his snide imaginary conversations, she would be highly disappointed in him for making light of someone being tortured. He is being petty and pathetic and insensitive and cruel, and he is ashamed, yes he is, but he also wants to hang on to Steve with the tips of his fingernails.

They go from affectionate to aloof really quickly. The guilt Steve feels every time he touches Tony is so apparent on his face that Tony just wants to end it and save Steve the pain. He cannot imagine how their past selves had believed truly, that they would be able to handle this thing; they would be able to handle Steve in love with two people and come out of it smelling like roses. How naive of them both.

Even on date nights (and they both make an extra effort now, which is a sign in itself about how terrified they are), there is a tension in the air, like they are on verge of saying something stupid or mentioning the elephant in the room. It destroys them much before they yell at each other across a dining table.

It comes to a head nearly a month later, when, over dinner (he bought candles, even; fuck omelettes, Tony can be romantic when he wants to), Steve ruins the mood and asks, "Why won't you meet him?"

"Steve. Come on, be serious."

"I am being serious, Tony," Steve says, exasperated. "Why won't you meet him?"

"I am sorry sweetheart," Tony is being sarcastic now, he knows, and he knows how much Steve hates that. "But forgive me if I am not dying to meet the man you have been in love with for ninety years."

Steve does not have anything to say to that, as Tony predicted.

"Can you deny it? Can you say you don't love him? Go on then, Captain America doesn't lie - "

"I thought you were okay with it," Steve answers. "If you are not, if you are going to throw it in my face everytime - then, what are we even doing here Tony? What are we even doing with all this? Dates, dinner, love - what is all this mean then?"

Steve's Brooklyn accent creeps into the speech and that is how Tony knows how wrecked Steve really is. This evening is rapidly progressing into unsalvageable disaster territory, and Tony feels like he is watching a train wreck in progress, but for the life of him, he cannot stop the words from leaving his mouth.

"It all means nothing! Maybe we should end this right now - go back to him, Steve! You loved him first, and you know what - " Tony breathes through the words, standing up. "Maybe I don't want someone who is in love with someone else. I don't want that reminder rubbed in my face every time I see you!"

Steve recoils like he has been stuck. Tony feels like absolute filth, he feels baser than the basest of creatures, he hates himself, but this is self-preservation. This is him protecting himself before things get too difficult; before he is even more in over his head than he is right now; before Steve dumps him after Tony crosses the point of no return; before Tony starts dreaming about rings and down on one knee proposals.

Blue eyes fill painfully with tears, before Steve's brave soldier face is in place, and Tony hates him just a little bit for that, for being so unaffected so quickly. Without a word, they both leave the room quietly, and Tony swears fuck it to the universe and calls Rhodey. It is time for those long-promised Disney princesses.

*

The aftermath is not pretty.

If Steve starts living in the apartment with Barnes permanently, Tony doesn't hear about it. All he knows is that Steve's dresser and side of the closet in their bedroom in the tower are all emptied.

The other Avengers leave Tony alone for most of the month immediately after the break-up. Bruce still comes around to the workshop with a knowing look in his eyes and holding bowls of warm mac and cheese as bait to get Tony to shower or sleep. Thor is still in Asgard. Clint and Tasha are in and out of the tower at odd hours, still carrying out missions for a makeshift, temporary S.H.I.E.L.D. They pretend to not know that Tony knows who the new director is, and for that, Tony is grateful. He is looking forward to breaking the news to Pepper, who had loved Coulson almost like a brother.

The only beneficiary of their breakup is Stark Industries' R&D division, because the single coping strategy Tony knows is to throw himself into work, work and more work. Science is clean, precise and predictable. Science doesn't have ninety year old rewrites. Dead things stay dead in science. Science doesn't have pretty blue eyes, the world's most perfect chin dimple or protective arms. Science just is.

Projects that had been buried for months due to budget constraints, engineering challenges, approvals and red tape suddenly find their way to Tony's workshop bench. He finds new solutions, more energy efficient prototypes, designs revolutionary new products and wins the company millions worth in contracts and sales. Just another Tuesday.

Yet, Pepper isn’t happy with him.

"I cannot do anything right for you, can I?" he asks her one late evening, exasperated and angry. He is on his seventh cup of coffee and starting on the sixtieth straight hour without sleep, so pardon him if he is a bit cranky. He is also sick of never being enough for anybody in his life.

"This isn't healthy," she tells him, perched on his bench in her pristine blue suit, heeled feet dangling and swinging back and forth in a rhythm. "We all have terrible exes we want to get over, present company included - " she adds when he snorts, "- but you are not getting over Steve by locking yourself in the basement - "

"Workshop," he interrupts, a little hurt on behalf of his workshop.

"- and refusing all human contact - "

"I am talking to you," he points out.

"Your other ex with whom you had the other dysfunctional relationship does not count," she states clearly in the tone of someone just done with his antics. He hears that tone a lot from the people in his lives, but very infrequently from Pepper.

"What do you recommend then, Ms. Potts?"

"Haven't you done The Lion King thing with Rhodey yet?"

"We did. Disney doesn't fix everything, you know," he remarks, running his fingers through his hair. God, he needs a shower and a drink, but he is happy to note that he is only seriously craving the former.

"Oh dear lord, this is worse than I thought," she says finally, eyes round and huge. She has never heard him diss on the magical healing powers of Disney. "How can I help?"

"Just - Just keep demanding extremely high levels of genius from me? Please?"

"Always, Tony. Always."

*

Three months later, the Avengers assemble in an abandoned parking lot in the middle of nowhere Chicago, to meet one very-dead-but-not-really person.

"Hello Agent," Tony greets as soon as he lands in the suit. "Aren't you a little too dead to be calling secret meetings?"

"I missed you too, Stark."

Tony can't believe he actually missed the sonofabitch, and it is gratifying to see him out and about again. Sure, Phil looks tired and pale and worn down by the weight of the world on his shoulders (and with Fury gone, it presumably is), but Coulson's legendary poker face gives hope in a way that is permanent, in a way that implies some things never change.

Steve is sitting on the hood of a parked, red SUV and Tony tries to ignore how beautiful he looks, poised like a Greek God about to spring to action. Natasha is beside him, sitting cross-legged. Bruce is standing next to her, leaning his head on her shoulder. Sam is perched on the blue sedan next to them, his feet dangling just a few inches off the ground. Clint is skipping on one foot to another, restless with energy, shooting Coulson a fond smile every other second (Tony notices, thank you very much; a cellist, like, _with a bow_ , wow, that's hilarious, Agent).

And then, there is Barnes.

Barnes is behind Steve on the roof of the car, his every muscle fraught with tension, his back crouched low, his face covered behind Steve's back. It takes seconds for Tony to put the obvious facts together - Barnes has every person in his sightline, and the wall to his back. They can't be interrupted or spied on without Barnes knowing about it. Also, Tony isn't fooled by their relative positions. If they were attacked, slight as the chances maybe, Barnes can throw himself in front of Steve in less than a second.

The thought makes Tony more happy than is perhaps healthy.

Barnes looks good. There is color in his cheeks, and clearly, he has gained weight and muscle. Tony remembers some bookmarked news article from Jarvis about an official pardon or something being granted upon the insistence of Captain America.

They are happy, his mind supplies. Bitter as he is, he can't help but feel good for Steve. That's all he ever wanted really. Steve to be happy and loved and cherished the way he deserves to be.

Tony steps out of the suit and let it stand in its open glory, showing off the miniscule detail of the inner cavity. Coulson starts talking, and he is only partially listening. S.H.I.E.L.D disintegrated, resources weak, no first-response teams, Government still distrustful of the Avengers, blah blah blah. Through most of it, Tony is acutely aware of Barnes' steady gaze on him from behind Steve.

Nearly ten minutes in and unable to take it any longer, Tony sneaks a glance at Steve. He looks tired and sad, eyes heavy with lines under them, dark purple and bruised. Tony notes the redness of his knuckles - Steve must have been going at a punching bag before being pulled into this meeting. It must have been recent enough, otherwise, the serum's healing factor usually removes all evidence of trauma within hours. Barnes observes Tony observing Steve and for one entire second, their eyes meet over Steve's shoulder, steady and determined.

There is challenge in Barnes' look and curiosity, along with fierce protectiveness. Tony glares back because - why the fuck not? Steve isn't his, Steve was never his, but he isn't one to step down from so obvious a challenge.

Coulson clears his throat and says, "Stark, if you and Sergeant Barnes are done silently emasculating each other? Can I get an answer on the emergency response situation?"

Steve blushes a deep scarlet, even his ears turning a deep color profusely. Barnes looks away, and Tony focusses on the quinjet issue. Until Coulson can scramble enough resources to set up a secret base and salvage intelligence and technology, the Avengers are first response team for anything threatening a demographic larger than a city block. With Steve and Barnes staying away from the tower, assembling is harder and takes a few more minutes. But neither of them is willing to move into the tower, and Tony is oddly grateful.

They talk shop some more, and Tony bitches about General Ross and his passive-aggressive battle with him over Bruce. Natasha and Clint are assigned to gather intelligence, and Steve is to play nice with the military to smooth things over. Tony has been asked (ordered, but tomato, to-maa-to) to please stay the hell away from all law-enforcement bodies until the need arises for him to go fuck things up.

All in all, if not for Terminator and his metal arm, it is a good meeting. Coulson is better at getting people to work together than Fury ever was, and for the millionth time, Tony wonders why Coulson didn't just do the Director's job.

Natasha leaves to prep the quinjet and drags Steve along with her, while Bruce and Sam silently whisper in the corner. Clint dances along, coming to a stop in front of Coulson and throwing his arms on the man's shoulders. Trapped between the lovebirds and Barnes, Tony chooses the lovebirds and clears his throat at them.

"Why Coulson," Tony says. "I figured you for a man of better taste. Pepper will be heart-broken."

"Ms. Potts has always known the - erm, identity of the cellist."

Clint looks smug and pleased, and it is nauseating. The moment one is single and heart-broken, all the sappy, vomit-inducing couples start coming out of the woodwork. It is a tragedy.

"Has she now? The sneaky devil," Tony retorts. "You are welcome to stay at the tower, by the way. The wonder twins are there already, anyway."

"I have to lay low for a while," Coulson informs him. "But thanks for the offer."

Tony shrugs and turns around, only to bump foreheads with a grinning winter soldier. Goddamn it!

"Why did you dump him?" Barnes asks him, his head cockily bent forward and the hint of a smug smirk pulling at his lips.

"Oh, so no small talk then?" Tony says, but it sounds weak to even his ears. "No introductions, howdys?"

"What is the point? I am a brutally honest man when it suits me."

Tony is grudgingly impressed. A memory from months ago comes back to him, of Steve pointing out how alike Tony and Bucky are. At the time, Tony had accepted it as an unintended compliment from Steve Rogers, to whom James Barnes was the greatest fucking thing in the universe alongside stray puppies and all-you-can-eat buffets. Now, it is back to bite him in the ass; Barnes is behaving exactly as Tony would behave if their situations were exchanged.

"Don't waste my time," Tony snaps, having made a split second decision to be brutally honest right back at him. "What do you want?"

"I want to know why you broke his heart," Barnes says. Tony can pinpoint with a great deal of accuracy to this moment, as the instant that he realized he sincerely wanted to punch the man.

"I did no such thing," Tony grits out, one step inside the armor. "I don't fancy dating men who are in love with other men."

The armor closes around him, and he has never been more grateful for its protection, especially for the faceplate as it hides away his expression of misery.

"He is miserable," Barnes says to him. Tony notices the lack of a denial about Steve being in love with Barnes. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Then, you are not doing your fucking job right!"

There is a pause before Barnes calls out, "Both of you are idiots! Complete idiots!" but Tony is taking off already, leaving the dingy lights of the parking lot behind.

*

Over the next two weeks, Jarvis notifies Tony nearly every day that Sergeant Barnes' is requesting an appointment. Every day, Tony asks Jarvis to ignore the request. He has nothing to say to his ex-boyfriend's current lover if that is alright, thank you very much.

On the Tuesday of the third week, Clint brings Barnes into Tony's workshop and backs away slowly, his arms raised.

"Don't shoot the messenger!" He squeaks out. "Tasha made me do it! She bribed me!"

"I want in on those macaroons!" Tony calls out as Clint slowly leaves without turning around.

After the door has swooshed shut behind him, Tony turns to the assassin in his workshop.

"What can I do for you?"

"You are a complete idiot," Barnes rasps out, settling down on Tony's workbench and making himself comfortable.

"And you wonder why I turned down your appointment requests. Did you have to come all the way here to insult me?"

The man looks unabashedly smug, one leg resting over the other knee, his elbow balanced on his leg and chin resting in his hand. He looks up at Tony, dark hair falling over his eyes, and for a moment, Tony gets it. Tony sees the young Sergeant Barnes that Steve had loved unashamedly during a time when such love was shameful. How is he supposed to compete with that?

The staring gets uncomfortable after a minute or so, and Tony sighs, falling onto a stool, giving in.

"Fine, talk," he tells Barnes. "But come here and sit on this stool. Let me look at that arm. That thing is an insult to modern engineering. It physically pains me to look at it, much less to have it in my workshop. Promise, I won't hurt you - "

"I would like to see you try."

"Good to know," Tony tells the bastard, nudging him into another one of his workstools and finding his tool kit. He is glad to have something to occupy his hands with - and really, some of the placement of gears in the arm is fascinating, if not utterly barbaric for its times - but mostly, he is relieved that this way, his face is bent and out of sight as Barnes talks.

"Steve and I are not together," Barnes says, and the small screwdriver slips from Tony's fingers.

"Wha - at?"

“We are not together," Barnes repeats in that same slow speech pattern. "We are not dating. Well, we tried - after you fellas - well, after you fellas broke up and I was relatively normal, we tried - we even fucked once every other day  - "

"Please spare me the details," Tony grits out, because Barnes touching Steve, Barnes feeling Steve _there_ , Barnes _inside_ Steve - no, he can't handle that. His hands are shaking, and he pretends to bend over his tool kit to give himself a minute.

"Right, of course," Barnes continues. "We started dating, stepping out together - whatever you folks call it now." The Brooklyn accent is painfully familiar in his speech and Tony's heart clenches up. "We tried. In the first couple a weeks, it was nice, before I noticed how sad he was. Then, when I asked him about it, he right up told me about you two - about how he loves you as much as he loves me, and he feels like he is betraying you every time he touches me."

"That was kinda our problem," Tony grits out, pulling out gears and looking at how the mechanics are synced with bone. It makes him sick, but he isn't sure if it is from the Hydra monstrosity or from the description of Steve's relationship with Barnes. "God, this must hurt like hell."

"Yes it does, and I bet it's not a walk in the park for you either, knowing he is cuddled up in my bed every night."

Tony nearly bites his tongue.

"I meant the arm - "

"Sure you did," Barnes smirks at him and Tony wants to hit him in the head with the blunt end of the screwdriver.

"It's alright, I guess," Barnes remarks. "I barely even notice it anymore. It is just there, you know? It is my arm."

Tony severely resists the urge to put his head between his knees and breathe, because, holy shit, it is just hitting him that this man was tortured. Holy hell, this man was fucking frozen and brainwashed; and every time he was woken up, he was sent to kill someone, and he was fitted with a metal arm that weighs a ton and he is Steve's best friend -

"Stark! Stark! Stark! Can you hear me?"

He is suddenly back in the cave with Yinsen, and remembers drowning into a bowl again and again. In the distance, he hears Jarvis yell out instructions to Barnes, but Barnes isn't here in the cave, is he? Barnes is with Steve, perfect Steve -

He comes to painfully.

He is crouched on the floor, his back pressed to the frame of the workbench, his knees pulled up to his chest and head between them. Barnes is crouches low in front of him, the interiors of his arm still exposed. The man looks tense and alert, and his eyes keep doing a three-sixty of the room, as though anticipating an attack any second.

"Sir, please respond. Are you alright?"

"Thanks Jay," Tony's voice is raspy. "I am okay. I am fine, just - I am okay. Don't call the cavalry, I am fine."

"I am glad to hear it, sir."

"Jesus Christ, Stark - " Barnes snaps, passing him a water bottle from the bench. Tony takes the man's flesh arm and raises himself up off the floor to sit on his stool again.

"Oh, don't pretend like you are any less broken than I am," Tony says. "Steve knows how to pick 'em, and his type is not socially upstanding high income neurosurgeon to take home to the parents."

Barnes shrugs in a clear admission of agreement.

"Are you okay to close me up, though?" He asks, gesturing to the arm.

"Yes, but I need you to come back in two days' time. I am gonna order some parts and take out some of the bulky ones. Will give you more flexibility and range of motion."

"I can do that," Barnes agrees. "But what about our problem?"

"You mean how Steve won't fucking touch you? That's not a problem at all in my book, Jesus, it makes me positively giddy. I never claimed to be a nice person, okay, and I am possessive as fuck, even if he isn't mine anymore - what?"

Barnes is looking at him suggestively, like Tony is a special brand of idiot and nobody told him so.

"What?" Tony prompts again.

"Let's do the math here - I love Steve, you love Steve. Steve loves me, Steve loves you," Barnes says, counting off of his fingers. "And yet, nobody is getting fucked and everybody is miserable. Steve won't have one of us because it hurts the other. Do you see where I am going with this?"

Tony literally feels his brain turn to mush. The unpleasant, ghastly, industry grade lubricant kind of mush.

"Are you suggesting - a threesome? Because Steve won't - "

"Ewww, no!" Barnes interjects and continues before Tony has the time to look properly insulted. "Nothing personal, Stark, but I used to mess around with your dad. So no, I have no desire to see you naked, ever."

That pronouncement promptly kills any and all desire Tony had felt stirring in his belly at the possibility of seeing Steve naked. Because - Barnes and Howard - no, just - no. No, no, no, thank you. No.

"Stark, you and I have a predicament. It is a shared, common predicament and I believe we can come to an arrangement."

Tony looks at him, properly looks at him and considers. It is mental, it is beyond crazy and in the face of every thing Steve believes about commitment, monogamy and family. But - Steve is usually game for a thrilling risk, especially if consenting adults consent to enjoy the thrilling risk.

"He will never agree to this, you know that right?"

"We won't know if we never try," Barnes is full on looking smug now. "Besides, if the two of us gang up on him - "

"I like the way you think," Tony admits. "This could be the start of a beautiful partnership, Barnes."

"I wouldn't go that far," Barnes smirks.

*

Tony is being forced to write stuff down on paper. On actual paper with a pen. He hasn't done that since freshman year at MIT, during the one week it took him to upgrade their systems to accept homework online.

It offends him on a fundamental level as a person, but in the face of a cold blooded Russian assassin, needs must and all that. Besides, Steve would find it sweet. The man is ridiculously old-fashioned about hand-written notes. Of course, what Barnes and he are proposing here tonight is the opposite of old-fashioned. But Tony is trying desperately to not think about that.

They are seated in a lower level conference room at the tower. Barnes is pacing the floor, looking anxious one second and smug the next. Tony is sprawled in one of chairs around the table, fiddling with the cap of the pen and rearranging his stack of papers. Jarvis has scanned everything, of course, but it still feels foreign and wrong between Tony's fingers.

"How will he know to come here, again?" Tony asks in an effort to fill the silence.

"I sent Natasha," Barnes replies.

"You told her?"

"One does not tell Tasha anything, Stark. She just - knows."

"That woman scares the crap out of me," Tony admits because there is no shame between them now, after what they have planned to do.

"She is the scariest of you lot," Barnes nods. Tony notes the use of the term 'you lot', to Barnes, they will always be outsiders - friends of Steve he tolerates. Tony shrugs.

"Have you MET Coulson?"

"Good point," Barnes agrees.

They wait for ten more minutes, which are filled with Tony tapping his foot against the railing of the table and Barnes being annoyed with him for it. On their eleventh minute, there is a knock on the door and Steve pops his head in.

" - you in here, Clint? Tasha said you needed - oh," Steve pauses, as he takes in the room, and his eyebrows climb higher and higher into his hairline as he looks from Tony to Barnes and back to Tony. His expression is comical, as he realizes that Tony and Barnes are alone together in a room, and they are both alive.

He enters, closing the door behind him.

"I want you both to know that I am very frightened right now," Steve says, leaning against the wall opposite Tony's chair and crossing his arms over his chest, looking every bit like an underwear model. A highly pissed off underwear model.

"You fought Nazis," Tony points out.

"I would rather take on a couple of Nazis right now. I am panicking," Steve snarks back, and now his eyes are really curious. He looks between the two of them again, every question written in the sharp jut of his jaw and the lines of his nose. Steve's face is open and honest in a very rare way, and as always, Tony finds it inexplicably irresistible. "Should I panic?"

He sounds so resigned. Tony smiles, but is certain it comes off more as a grimace.

"Stark and I made a deal - "

"We came to an agreement, for Christ's sake, I told you - it is all in the phrasing - "

"What the hell difference does it make - "

"You are going to make him run for the hills?"

"Not Steve, no - he punched Hitler in the nose - "

"I actually didn't," Steve says the same time that Tony says, "He actually didn't!"

Tony shrugs at Barnes with a "See?" expression.

"Okay, you two," Steve says, "what is going on?"

Tony sucks in a deep breath, and then starts talking.

"You won't sleep with me - "

"You broke up with me!" Steve interrupts, clearly abashed.

"Yes, in the hope that you will reconnect with your long-lost lover and get some," Tony explains. "But no, I find out from Terminator here that he isn't getting any, which implies that you aren't getting any, and in the name of love, we are all pining away in misery."

"Tony," Steve presses two fingers to the bridge of his nose, and his face is flushed a deep red. In some things, Steve Rogers will always be shy and reticent. "Do you have to be so crass?"

"Steve, you are standing with the two people in the world who have taken you to bed," Barnes points out, smiling smugly. "There is no need for secrets in this room."

Steve looks at both of them with his familiar resigned expression, the one that means I-have-no-idea-what-I-did-to-deserve-this and squares his shoulders.

"Alright, what are you saying?"

"Are you in love with me?" Tony asks, and even though his brain knows rationally what answer to expect, he is nervous, a part of him skeptical of what Steve is likely to say.

"Of course," Steve answers, without a hint of doubt. "Always."

"And you are in love with me?" Barnes prompts, eyebrow arched.

Steve just looks sad. "Yes, yes, I am in love with you - I am crazy for the both of you, and it is ridiculous and I don't know what to do, and I can't be with just one of you and it is selfish and greedy - we have been over this. What, what are you trying to say?"

"What if you could have the both of us?"

Silence - for a whole minute, of Steve's face changing colors and looking between Tony and Bucky, trying to figure out if an elaborate and cruel prank is being played.

"What - what?"

"So you know how I am really busy with SI stuff Monday through Wednesday?" Tony asks, putting his feet up on the table. Steve's face is turning an interesting color, and if they are getting rejected, Tony would like to be comfortable for it.

"Ye..es?" Steve drags the word out, unsure of where this was going, but terrified all the same.

“And you know how I have training, physio and therapy at the VA Thursday through Saturday?" Barnes asks, leaning his elbows on the back of the chair, looking carefree and smug. Tony doesn't know how he does it, how he pulls off the careful nonchalance while looking like he was bestowing the honor of his presence upon mere mortals. Tony does it too, but it is usually undercut by the expensive suit and the charm of his company. It is never this blatant.

Steve looks between the two of them again, his eyebrows in his hairline.

"Are you - serious?"

"You can have Sundays to yourselves," Tony pushes one of the sheets of paper across the desk toward Steve. "It is the perfect arrangement, really."

Barnes is now sitting in his chair, running a nail file over his fingertips.

"We can push things around, of course - to keep things fair," he says. "You know, in case of Avengers' business and if one of our times' gets cut short, we can balance it out - "

"Yes, there is a fairness clause in here - " Tony says digging through his pile and looking up to pass the paper on. "Steve, breathe - you are looking very purple."

"You two - made a con - contract?"

"An agreement," Tony corrects him. "It is all in the phrasing, really."

Barnes moves to nudge Steve into a chair opposite Tony, because the other man was looking like his legs would give out.

"An agreement - "

"Yes Steve, aren't you paying attention?"

"- about sharing - me?"

"Well, I wouldn't say sharing," Tony shrugs and Barnes nods along. "It is just a convenient arrangement that benefits all parties - that are, as established, clearly in love - "

"Not with each other," Bucky interjects. "Just with one of the three parties, which is you."

Steve looks at them like they are all short a few marbles. Tony cannot, in good conscience, blame him. But something in their earnest expressions (they had both practiced in the mirror in the men's room before this meeting) must get through to him, because he puts on his 'brave soldier' face again.

"Okay," he says after he takes three very visible deep breaths. "Let us pretend - pretend that I am considering this, because clearly, I am a moron - but if we are pretending to consider this, what would it mean - like, I am _your_ boyfriend for three days” – Steve then points to the other one – “and the next three days, I am _your_ boyfriend?"

"Yes," Tony answers, checking off the question at the top of his FAQ page. "That would be the section on terminology, but yes, you can pick whatever you want. Boyfriend, lover, beau, fiance - but we can talk about that."

"Fi - fiance?"

"Stark," Barnes snaps at him. "I told you not to overwhelm him! See what you have done!"

"Sorry, Steve - clearly you are not ready, but never mind - let us move on, okay? What other questions do you have?"

"Tony," Steve asks, and he is pinching the bridge of his nose again. "You are a public figure. People already think we are going out. If I am seen with you at events when I am your boyfriend, and people spot us outside during your - Bucky's days - then - then - "

He loses steam after that, clearly unable to find the words.

"That is the section on PDA. See, this is simple." Tony answers, smiling.

"Steve," Barnes says. "I am not an affectionate man in public. I don't like PDA. Stark on the other hand, does. So when we are out, people are hardly going to think of us as anything more than best friends who served a war together. When you are out with him, they will know he is the middle aged pervert taking advantage of you." Tony throws the white board marker at his head, and feels satisfied at the thump it makes when it hits him in the forehead.

"In other words," Tony corrects. "You are my boyfriend and his best friend, as far the public is concerned."

"And you are okay with that?" Steve asks Bucky, who shrugs.

"What about - " Steve blushes beet red again, and isn't that adorable - "what about sex?"

"We talked about this a lot," Barnes says, and Steve looks horrified.

"Obviously, we can't sleep with anyone outside of this agreement - "

" - and all three of us get tested before we can start putting the agreement into action - "

"- and I won't sleep with Barnes - " Tony adds for good measure.

"- and I won't sleep with Stark, thank fucking God - "

"- and we would really like it if you don't sleep with anyone but the two of us - "

"- and each pair can have a safeword, and rest is open for negotiation between the each pair, this is a judgement free zone - "

"- and no comparing notes - " Steve puts his head in his hands.

" - because that would just be awkward - "

" - the bottom line is we want to get laid - "

" - with you!" They both finish at the same time, and Steve is looking distinctly uncomfortable and also, a little bit turned on.

"You definitely don't want to sleep with each other?" He asks, and both of them shake their heads urgently.

"There are lines, Steve. Big, bold ones. He slept with my father," Tony clarifies.

"I slept with his father." Bucky reiterates.

Steve looks traumatized, and they quickly move to the next section of the agreement.

They were going to be here for a while.

*

"What about telling people?" Steve asks, nearly ninety minutes after they started going over the agreement.

"Up to you," Barnes clarifies. "Stark and I won't say anything to anyone. Depending on who you are comfortable with, you can share."

Tony nods, knowing how important it is to give Steve the control in all of this. He is the one caught like a deer in headlights.

"What about in the field?" Steve asks. "I don't want anything to change, and also, I don't want the two of you at each others' throats."

"We promise," Tony answers. "See? It is in the agreement. During battle - best behavior. You are the Captain and team leader."

"Okay," Steve nods along, fingers still pinching the bridge of his nose. "Living situation?"

"Monday through Wednesday at Barnes' apartment or yours, Steve. Thursday through Saturday at the tower, or wherever I am, I guess. Sunday is up to you. Wherever you want."

"Guys," Steve says looking at the both of them. "I am really, really - unsure. I want to, oh God, this is beyond selfish, and I understand that, but - this could get ugly really fast. One of us could get hurt, or things could get weird, and - "

"Steve," Barnes moves to hug him and takes him in his arms. It takes every ounce of restraint in Tony to keep him in his chair. Barnes and he had tossed a coin for this, for the chance to comfort Steve when he inevitably shattered during this discussion.

"Steve," Barnes whispers to him. "It's okay. It's alright."

"One word from you and we can call it off," Tony points out. "We have a 'call it off' clause." Tony pulls out the long, rectangular case from the pocket of his jeans and holds it out to Steve. Steve takes it and opens the case, pulling out a thin silver chain. The chain has Bucky's dog tags hanging off it, and Tony adds the key to the suitcase armor to the long silver length.

"See?" Tony says, putting the chain back in Steve's outstretched palm. "The minute you change your mind, you return our stuff to us - the key to me, and the dog tags to him. We call it off, no hurt, no ill feelings, okay?"

"If one of us changes our mind, we will ask for our pendant back," Bucky adds.

"And," Tony says, his chest constricting and breathing coming sharp, "if you ever decide that you only want one of us, if you stop loving one person, change your mind or something - well, just return that person's pendant, yeah?"

"Tony," Steve says, reaching for him. Tony rushes forward to take the hug, their coin toss be damned. "That will never happen."

They stand like that in a huddle for a few minutes, and Tony exchanges a look with Barnes, knowing they have probably succeeded in changing Steve's mind. When Steve finally lets go, he sniffs a few times before turning to pick up the sheets of paper.

"What do you think?" Bucky asks.

"I dunno yet," Steve answers, shrugging his shoulders. "I need some time to think."

"Of course," Tony says, mentally checking off another box. This is exactly how he predicted the evening would go. Steve Rogers is a tactician. He will never make a decision without thinking it through. "Whatever you decide, just come and tell us, yeah? Hang on to the necklace."

"And if you decide to go through with this, you get to pick the start date, okay? We can do it immediately or whenever you want."

Steve smiles at the both of them, grins and says, "I cannot believe I am actually considering this."

"We are persuasive," Bucky says, and if Steve's deep red blush is any indication, they are in for some good times.

*

Six days later, Steve corrals the both of them into the same conference room in the tower. Tony has been woken up from a really good nap (after forty eight hours straight of inventing; Steve needn't know about that) and Barnes looks like he was in the middle of a workout before he was haphazardly thrown into the back of a cab.

Actually, judging by Barnes' hair, Tony changes his assessment to the back of Steve's bike.

Of course, Steve fucking Rogers won't spend twenty dollars on a cab when there is a perfectly accessible alternate means of transport. He is so adorable that Tony wants to squeeze him to death.

Right now, they are both stifling yawns and trying to look alert and not at all too anxious to hear Steve's decision.

"Okay," Steve says, and he is flushing already. The news can only be good if Steve is blushing that deep. "I have given this a lot of thought, and I read up about polygamous relationships on the internet - "

"You did what?" Tony is giddy with delight.

"A lot of it was - not very appropriate," Steve remarks, coloring a deeper shade of red. "Anyway, I have one condition to add to your agreement."

"What is it?"

"Honesty," Steve says and he looks at the both of them equally, glancing at each of their faces one after the other. "I want complete honesty. I am not saying, tell me everything all the time, but just don't lie to me? If you are hurt, or if something is upsetting you, or if you want me to leave you alone - this situation is complicated enough without expecting me to read minds. So that's my caveat. Tell me the truth, and we are golden."

Barnes and Tony look at each other.

It is such a STEVE request to make, it is so fundamentally him that Tony can't imagine Steve ever saying anything else. Honesty isn't exactly easy for him, Tony knows this from painful experience, but nine months with Steve had taught him how glorious it is to have a partner with whom it was okay to be honest.

Tony, for the first time in his life, thinks he can pull this off.

With his heart beating in his throat, Tony nods, giving his assent while Bucky promises his honesty.

For a moment, all three of them just look at each other, and it feels so anti-climactic that Tony isn't sure he is dreaming. Then, Steve retrieves the long rectangular case from inside his jacket and holds out the chain. He unclasps the end and pulls it slightly apart, holding one end in each hand. The glint of the overhead yellow lamps shine off the dangling key and the rough edge of the dog tag.

"Going to put it on me?" Steve asks through his eyelashes, suddenly very shy.

Tony, feeling like his heart is about to burst with it, takes one end while Barnes takes the other. Together, they come together to clasp the two ends at the back of Steve's neck.

It feels like a new beginning.

*

They decide to start the following Monday. As planned, Tony goes to all of his meetings and gets Pepper to clear everything Thursday through Saturday. If she suspects something is up, she doesn't show it.

As the universe is wont to do, the three days Steve is coped up at Barnes' pass slower than death. Usually, Tony barely notices the passage of time when he is inventing or working, but knowing he is going to have Steve with him soon pushes at his buttons and his already stretched-thin patience. Bruce notices him fidget and frown over simple equations in the lab when they are science-ing together, but keeps his observations to himself.

Tony has the best friends in the world.

On Tuesday, Pepper sends him some of Stark Engineering's latest work, and that amuses and exasperates Tony enough for two days. He is barking orders and rewriting code and correcting designs with his big red sharpie with a great deal of fervor that Wednesday passes in a blur. He barely sleeps Wednesday night, succumbing early Thursday morning for a quick nap.

The sun is up on Thursday when he wakes. He makes his way to the kitchen to find some coffee, and hopefully, Steve will just magically appear along with the coffee. Or maybe he ought to send a car? A limo? What is the protocol here? His mind is too fuzzy to figure it out, so he decides on coffee first.

He is almost all the way to the coffee machine when he waylaid by four people standing around his breakfast bar, staring at a one very-red-in-the-face super soldier. Yay, look Steve!

"Move," he pleads with Natasha, who grabs the pot and a mug and passes them to him. He downs two mugs successively before his vision clears, and look - Steve!

"Good morning, Tony," Steve smiles at him shyly, and he is serving breakfast - eggs and toast, Steve is the best! - to everyone in his kitchen.

“Mmmhhggnn," Tony says, snuggling close to Steve and grabbing his forearm, redirecting the fork piled with eggs to his mouth. This isn't how he imagined first cuddle with Steve would be like in their new arrangement, but this is perfect in its own way. It feels like parts of Tony's universe falling back into place.

He eats off of Steve's fork for a few more seconds before several throats clear loudly around them, and Tony remembers, oh, people. Steve is painfully red in the face, and Tony looks from Clint (who is looking amused) to Natasha (who is looking smug) to Bruce (who looks thrilled) to Coulson (unflappable as ever, with a hint of condescension).

Coulson doesn't even live here!

"You all obviously have questions," Tony points out because Steve is making his 'words-are-difficult-right-now' face.

"When did you get back together?" Bruce asks. "Will you stay here then?" He directs at Steve.

"Breakfast is awesome when you stay here," Clint adds, helpful as always.

Unfortunately, this is Steve's call to make, not his - so Tony looks at Steve questioningly for a hint on how he wants this handled. Surprising him, Steve answers.

"We are trying something new," he says, which is - spectacularly vague while providing just enough reason for Steve to be cuddling Tony against the countertop. Steven Rogers, ladies and gentlemen. Tony wants to take his cap off, but he isn't wearing one. He makes a mental note to wear more caps.

"Well - "Bruce looks thrown, unsure what to say. "Good for you. Congratulations, I hope it works out."

Clint just gives a booming laugh, takes a slice of bacon in one hand and tugs Coulson's tie in the other (why is Coulson wearing a suit to breakfast? Does the man own other clothes?) and drags him in the direction of his bedroom.

Natasha is the last to leave, taking a banana and pressing a finger to the side of Steve's neck, which is - wow, purple and bruised, hello winter soldier - as Steve hisses.

"Make good choices, boys," she tells them before vanishing in that way of hers. 

Tony turns in Steve's arms to face up to him, and wow, more bruises down the side of the neck and at the collar bone.

"Hello," Tony whispers against Steve's lips, leaning up on his toes to kiss the man properly.

"Hello," Steve breathes back against Tony, his breath tickling the hairs of Tony's beard.

"Still love me?"

"More than anything else in the world," Steve answers, eyes earnest and sincere, and Tony resists the urge to point out the obvious exception.

This is their first day.

*

The Coulson incident happens three weeks into their arrangement.

On a Friday morning at the tower, Steve walks into the kitchen to find the older man making waffles. Steve is still a little dazed from the previous night - previous week, if he is honest with himself- he is walking with a very obvious limp, he is incredibly sore, he has bruises and hickeys everywhere on his torso and he is seriously regretting his decision to walk shirtless to the kitchen.

But when one is sleeping with a super soldier assassin and a billionaire philanthropist, one tries not look back at one's life choices and just roll with the incredible amounts of sex one gets to have, even if one is sore enough to not be able to sit down for a while.

All of this however, is forgotten in the face of Coulson's knowing smirk, and Steve feels himself flush.

Wordlessly, Coulson passes him the butter knife and a pile of toast and makes a plate for himself. When he is done, he gets up to leave the kitchen. Only on his way out does he turn to Steve to say, "You can say no to them, you know? Just - try the word. Practice in the mirror. 'No Tony, No Bucky'. It's good for you."

Steve flushes again, and stares with a gaping mouth at Coulson's retreating back. ( _Don't trust his poker face, he knows everything_ , Steve hears a voice in his mind tell him. The voice sounds a lot like Tony's.)

After that, he makes a rule with both of his lovers to take things down a notch. (Well, okay, he makes the rule another week later, after an embarrassing incident with Natasha while sparring and being thrown on his ass hard enough to yell out in pain, but the point is he makes the rule).

The problem though, is that they are so obviously competing with each other to see who can leave the better mark on his body, to see who can fuck him harder and deeper. Every time Steve moves from one to the other, he sees them catalog the bruises on his body, he sees them trying to retrace the activities of the other without blatantly asking for the story.

They had promised to not compare notes, but they are treating Steve's body like a canvas anyway. If he didn't have such a deeply ingrained kink for rough sex, Steve would be very worried.

Bucky, with his strength empowered by the serum, is physically more bruising than Tony. Steve takes longer to heal from the bites that Bucky leaves on his skin. The bruises left by Bucky's grip of his shoulders are harder to hide, and they turn deep purple before a mellow brown before fading away.

Something in Tony's eyes shifts every time he sees Steve hide away another bruise with the long sleeves of a t-shirt or the high collar of a polo. (And because Steve had laid down a rule about armor or parts of the armor in bed, Tony can't rely on power to mark Steve for his own.)

Where Bucky is sheer strength, Tony is determined patience and relentless energy. He would bring Steve to the edge again and again, keeping him high-strung and tense, making him wait, and taunting him for hours before letting him crash with the pleasure of it, the anticipation making the experience a dozen times sweeter. In Tony’s bed, Steve has been reduced to a pile of wanton need for hours, begging, barely believing the words coming out of his mouth as he is egged on by Tony to beg, to make filthy promises and offer dirty bribes - giving up everything he is just for permission to orgasm.

Between the two of them, Steve feels like he is floating most of the time. Never in his wildest dreams has he imagined having this.

*

Bucky plans a date night five weeks in.

Essentially, it takes them nearly five weeks to emerge from their sex-induced haze to decide to do other things that couples do. Now, Steve is buzzing, his skin electric with an undercurrent of excitement, restless energy and contentment.

He is looking forward to a walk to the park, perhaps a trip to the cinema to watch something violent and gory with a lot of smashing automobiles. When they were boys, a movie night used to be a rare treat, but Steve remembers the thrill of coughing up enough pennies to buy tickets. Sometimes, in the darkness of the theatre, Bucky would lean forwards and take Steve’s hand.

“You ready to go?” Bucky asks, wedging his head between the door and frame of Steve’s bedroom at five minutes to six. His eyebrows rise into his hairline when he takes in Steve’s appearance. “Shit! I should have told you. You need to dress up.”

Steve looks down at himself, at his plaid shirt, khakis and well-loved leather jacket.

“Buck, where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Bucky tells him, coming into the room now. He is wearing a tuxedo. Steve’s brain backtracks. Bucky wants to take him somewhere fancy? And he is… wearing a tux?

“Please tell me you are not taking me to the opera,” Steve groans, digging in his closet to unearth his one good suit that Natasha had made him buy. Steve hates the opera.

“We are not going to the opera,” Bucky reassures him.

They go to an opulent Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side. Bucky has obviously been by ahead of them to make arrangements, because they are immediately directed to a private space when they arrive. Steve peruses the menu, extremely uncomfortable in his suit and unable to understand this sudden change in routine. This is the kind of place Tony frequents. Steve would have been happy with a movie and a couple of hot dogs from a stand.

“Buck,” Steve frowns. “This menu – there are no prices on it.”

Steve doesn’t like the smirk on Bucky’s face, not one bit. “This is one of those high end places, yes? You are my date, so you don’t get to see the prices. It’s my treat.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say, stunned by this version of Bucky he isn’t used to. Something about this entire situation sits weirdly between them, filling the silence with its heavy timbre. Steve stares at the menu some more, and doesn’t take a word in, trying to put a finger to the unsettling emotion. It’s just – he is used to Bucky knowing everything about him, and to his knowing everything about Bucky, including the state of the others’ wallet.

Even when they owned only about fifty cents between the pair of them, pooling it together to buy corn on the cob is a sacred ritual to Steve. This new formality feels weird – this is the kind of stunt Tony would pull to _impress_ Steve.

Just like that, things become clear.

Steve waits until they give their order to the waiter, and their drinks have arrived before brushing the subject.

“You promised you wouldn’t compete with each other,” he says without a prelude. Bucky looks taken aback for a second before meeting Steve’s eyes.

“I am not competing with him,” Bucky states, and if he didn’t look so surprised, Steve might have believed him.

“What’s all this then, Buck? What are we doing here? I figured we would do a movie, yeah? Hot dogs after, or maybe burgers at that diner. What are we doing here, posh place like this one?”

“Am I not allowed to treat you once in a while?”

“Of course you are,” Steve shakes his head, exasperated. “But, usually, we plan our treats – _together._ Besides, you hate places like these.”

“Maybe I changed my mind,” Bucky says, taking another breadstick from the basket. “You are used to things like this now, and I swore to treat you right – “

“Treat me right by treating me exactly the same,” Steve pleads. “I can’t – Buck, you know I don’t want all the fancy suits and expensive dinners right? I want to be with you for what you are, for what we are when we are together.”

“A couple of idiotic kids from Brooklyn who wouldn’t know the tail end of one wine from another?”

“Exactly,” Steve smiles. “Don’t pull stunts like this, punk. How much money are you blowing tonight on this? How do you even _have_ money?”

“The VA gave me a ton in back pay,” Bucky admits.

“Save it for a rainy day, idiot. We will split the check tonight. I am done listening to you,” Steve says with finality.

Their food arrives and Steve thanks the waiter before raising an eyebrow at Buck questioningly. This is the real test tonight. This is the make or break, to see if Bucky understands what Steve wants, what he _needs._

Bucky gingerly unwraps his silverware and begins to eat gingerly off his plate, while Steve just sits there and stares at him. It takes another few minutes before Bucky notices.

“Don’t you like yours?”

Steve shakes his head.

“No, come on, Buck,” Steve insists. “Don’t do this. This isn’t us.”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest and just stares. Before long, Bucky _gets_ the hint and passes his bread plate to Steve, who transfers a portion of his Bolognese and accepts his own plate back with Bucky’s Gnocci.

“That’s more like it,” Steve smiles and begins digging in. The food is delicious, rich and warm in the pleasant ambience of their surroundings. For the first time this evening, Steve sees a genuine smile flit across Bucky’s face. “You idiot.” Steve cannot help but chide.

“I am sorry,” Bucky admits, looking down at his plate. “I was being – silly.”

“Why?” Steve asks, finally giving voice the question that has been bugging him all evening.

“I just figured – Stark is so put together and – he has a way of knowing what you need before you have to say it. He is fucking rich, I get that. I just wish – I could take care of you too.”

Steve feels something thick settle in the middle of his throat, and he swallows nervously.

“But you do, Buck.” Steve assures him. “You do take care of me. You both do. You came up with this – arrangement even though I didn’t know I could ask for it. You just _knew._ Buck, look at me.”

Barnes looks up at Steve’s sharp command and something unfamiliar lurks in those dark eyes. Uncertainty and self-doubt are very foreign on Bucky’s face.

“Tony and you – you are different, and that’s fine; that’s just perfect. I don’t want you to be more like him, or him to be more like you. Frankly, if you did, I would go crazy in a day. One of each of you is more than enough, thanks.”

“Oi!” Bucky protests, but it is weak at best.

“The point is – “ Steve put his fork down to take Bucky’s hand across the table. “The point is that you and he are different. The way I am with him is different from the way I am with you. Tony might like to parade me around town in fancy cars over three thousand dollar bottles of wine, or just feed me two day old pizza in his workshop. We have our own thing, just the way you and I walk ten blocks in the cold to eat cheap burgers and fight over the fries.”

Bucky now looks embarrassed, and smiles his abashed smile. Steve feels a pit of arousal deep in his stomach. Bucky misjudges things so infrequently that when they do happen, they are a little bit of a turn on.

“I should have just told you.”

“Yes, you should have,” Steve agrees, watching Buck steal more food from his plate. At least, they were over the cold-and-formal phase of this dinner. “We could have saved ourselves a couple of hundred dollars and small portion sizes.”

“I am sorry,” Bucky apologizes, grinning up at Steve. “Let me make it up to you after dinner.”

“Let’s just skip dessert and ask for the check,” Steve chokes out, running his fingers up Bucky’s arm, already looking forward to getting back to their bedroom.

On their way out, he sees Bucky shiver as he shrugs into his jacket. Steve takes off his own and wraps it around him, huddling close to the other man.

“Look who is taking care of who now,” Buck complains.

“It’s called a relationship, sweetheart,” Steve teases back.

Bucky freezes for a second, one step out the door before he walks into the chilly night. “Is that what we are, you and I? A relationship?”

“Yes boyfriend,” Steve grins at him and takes his hand. It is a clear night, and they walk home under the stars.

*

Steve isn’t naïve enough to believe that is the end of it. It is not.

Over the next few weeks, both Tony and Bucky dance around Steve to constantly one up each other. If Tony mysteriously suggests long walks in the park along routes dotted with Steve’s favorite street food vendors, he doesn’t question it too much. Tony gives it away though, when, bent over a couple of corn dogs, he asks Steve if he and Barnes eat out a lot.

Steve then gives Tony a condensed version of the _stop-trying-to-be-him_ speech.

It works for about a month or so. One morning, Steve comes down to the workshop to pull Tony away from whatever he is working on; only to find the engineer bent over Bucky’s arm, Bucky sitting on a work stool and tapping his foot impatiently against the table. Both of them mouth off to each other, one sarcastic comment after the other, but it is strangely peaceful.

Tony looks happy in his element, tinkering with something mechanical and new; Bucky looks around the workshop in wonder, and hisses every time Tony accidentally nicks something or the other in the circuitry. Steve stands in the doorway and stares to his heart’s content before turning away, smiling to himself.

*

They fight over Steve’s birthday.

The Fourth of July that year falls on a Saturday, so technically, it is a Tony day. Bucky calls an equal opportunity clause, and the two of them butt heads for nearly a week. It makes Steve’s life very difficult.

He finally puts his foot down, and threatens to take his day off (as they have taken to calling it) on his birthday, so that neither of them gets to spend the day with him. It works beautifully – they schedule Friday through Saturday till noon for Tony; and the remainder of Saturday through Sunday for Bucky. As long as they don’t cut him into two halves, Steve is game for anything.

This way, Steve gets two birthday cakes, two rounds of birthday sex and two presents. He is deliriously happy.

It doesn’t last.

Every year, Steve works with the Maria Stark Foundation to raise funds to support war veterans. As part of some goodwill hunting, Pepper sets him up to appear on several talk shows. On Jimmy Kimmel, after the obligatory conversation about the program and the need for veteran support, the questioning turns to his love life.

There are actual wolf-whistles from the audience when Steve confirms, at Kimmel’s questioning, that he is currently seeing Tony Stark. The rest of the interview is smooth and flows to script, and Steve leaves the studio feeling light with the joy of a job well done. He doesn’t think much of it till later that evening, when he enters Bucky’s apartment, a duffel bag over his shoulder.

Bucky is on him the instant the door is shut behind Steve. He pushes Steve against the door, and the bag thuds to the floor with Steve’s arms coming out to catch him as Bucky’s legs wind themselves around Steve’s hips. Steve hisses in pain as Bucky bites down the line of Steve’s neck and his throbbing lower lip. Steve tastes blood, as Bucky relentlessly tugs at his hair and starts marking the other side of his jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin.

Like a man possessed, Bucky doesn’t let up till they are both sated and catching their breath on the floor. Steve had tried to move the proceedings to the bedroom, but Bucky had trapped him in the space between his arms, not slackening his hold even to let Steve get comfortable.

“Did I hurt you?” he finally asks, after both of them have lain on the floor for long enough, staring at the ceiling.

“No,” Steve answers immediately.

“Steve,” Bucky prompts, voice sharp.

“It’s nothing that won’t heal in a couple of hours. I am just sore,” Steve admits.

“I am sorry,” Bucky sits up and reaches for a towel from the corner of the sofa, passing it wordlessly to Steve.

“This is about Kimmel, isn’t it? About what I said?” Steve asks, wiping himself clean. He is gross and disgusting, and a shower is probably the only effective option right now. “Buck, it’s okay if it is.”

“It’s not okay, Steve,” Bucky snaps. “It is not okay! I don’t have the right to treat you like – like this just because you get to have a public relationship with him!”

“Buck – “

“No, I get it,” Bucky interrupts. “I really do! Captain America can’t be part of a three way relationship. He can’t be polygamous. I get it! It just – sucks, okay? And the fact that I knew this was coming did nothing to change how much it sucked!”

Steve feels his heart thud loudly against his ribcage. He fingers the chain around his neck, wrapping a fist around both the key and the dog tag like a talisman.

“Do you – do you want this back?”

“What? NO!” Bucky yells. He turns around and quickly kneels in front of Steve on the floor, taking his face between his hands. “No, no, no Stevie, no! I am so sorry. I will never want that back, never. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Steve whispers. They sit there on the floor for a long time, their foreheads touching.

*

The next morning, Tony takes one look at Steve and grits his teeth.

“What did he do to you? Throw you in a boxing ring with a bear?”

“Tony,” Steve says warningly, but wrapping his arms around the smaller man anyway and pressing a kiss to his temple.

“No, seriously Steve,” Tony chides. “You let him get away with murder.”

Steve just continues kissing down the side of Tony’s face, holding him close. After a few moments, Tony turns in Steve’s arms to look up at the taller man.

“Kimmel?”

“Kimmel,” Steve nods, pressing his lips into Tony’s dark hair. “He cannot deal with this. He pretends like he can, but he cannot.”

“I could not,” Tony remarks, and explains when Steve cocks an eyebrow at him. “I have thought a lot about it, I wouldn’t be able to sneak around. Hell, the first time we got together, I wanted to put on the suit and yell it out in every country on the planet. It is hard enough not having you for three days a week.”

“I am yours then too,” Steve points out.

“No, you don’t get to say that.” Tony clucks out. “By that logic, you are his on my days. Not fair. I want you to just be mine. I know I can’t have that, but I won’t act like it doesn’t kill me sometime.”

Steve can’t get the words out. They are frozen in his throat, but he needs to ask. He needs to be done with this, because maybe they miscalculated. He is coasting along on the high of having two people he loves and adores, but it isn’t fair to either of them.

“It would be so much easier to let go. Why are you doing this then, Tony?”

“Why are _you_?”

“Coz’ I am selfish like that,” Steve admits, ashamed. Sometimes, he lies awake at night thinking of what his mother would say to him if she were alive today. He can’t help but feel like they are headed for a world of pain – he is going to end up hurting one of them, but he isn’t selfless enough to let them both go.

Old Sarah Rogers would be so ashamed of him.

Tony chuckles.

“I am selfish too,” Tony tells him. “You are wrong, you know? It would not be easy to let go, to not have this. Steve, those weeks without you were the worst of my life. If I get to share you or not have you at all, I can share.”

Steve pulls away and moves to stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass window. The view from Tony’s bedroom is spectacular, and on any other day, Steve’s artist eye would catalog the details for a sketch. Manhattan is lounging lazily below them, as tumultuous and active as Steve’s heart right now.

“Don’t pull away,” Tony insists. “Talk to me, Steve.”

“Did you just ask to discuss our relationship?”

“It’s part of a Growth and Maturity plan I am working on with Pepper,” Tony shrugs. “Stop it, I can practically hear you overthinking.”

“What kind of a future do we have, the three of us?” Steve asks, still facing the window. “I want to be married someday, maybe have kids – not right now, our lives are so dangerous. Someday, maybe I could retire. Take a day job, raise kids. But how?”

The urge is on the tip of Tony’s tongue, the urge to drop to one knee right here right now, as Steve stands illuminated against the light of a city they both love.

There is a ring sequestered between Dummy’s wheels in the workshop, a thick, elegant platinum band with sapphires that match Steve’s eyes. Tony has had the ring since before their “break-up”. More than half a dozen times, Tony has drunkenly sobbed to Rhodey about the ring that he wants to someday see on Steve’s finger.

But – there is the undercurrent of uncertainty. As their situation gets more and more complicated (and Tony isn’t fool enough to pretend it isn’t), he worries about the day Steve calls off the whole thing and goes away to bunk with a blonde, petite woman in the suburbs with two and a half kids and a dog.

Even more humiliating are the nightmares that plague him, that one day, the chain around Steve’s neck would only carry the rectangular metallic dog tag with the engraving _James Buchanan Barnes._

Tony will never stop waiting for Steve to leave him, and in that way, he and Barnes are very similar indeed. They’d both hang on till Steve has had enough. But neither will give up first. Tony wishes he were self-denying enough to let go, to let Steve just be happy with Barnes and have his two and a half children. But he isn’t.

“Steve,” Tony says finally, coming up behind Steve and putting his arms around his waist. “We will figure it out. Nothing has to happen right now. We have gotten so far. I love you, he loves you. Just for this moment, isn’t it enough?

“It is,” Steve turns in Tony’s arms and his eyes are wet, glittering in the sunshine.

*

“I want to marry him,” Tony tells Barnes two weeks later. The bastard looks surprised. They are both at a fundraiser in D.C., and Steve is cozying up with the First Lady at the high table. Tony picks this moment to be good as any.

“Don’t be so shocked,” Tony snaps. “I want to settle down and have a family. So bite me, Count Buckula.”

“Have you asked him yet?”

“No,” Tony replies. “Wanted to run it by you, first. Our situation is so complicated – “

“Worried he will say no?”

“Why? Are _you_ worried he will say yes?”

They stare at each other, neither willing to give in, before finally Barnes sighs and shrugs his shoulders.

“What are you asking me for? If you are engaged or married, he is still mine for three days a week.”

“Do you have – are you going to – you don’t want to get hitched?”

“I am not the marrying kind.”

“Oh right,” Tony snaps. “You are the sleep-with-him-for-three-days-a-week kind of boy.”

“I – I am not – look, Stark,” Barnes grunts out. “I don’t even know why I am telling you this. But, I am not – and I will never be the man Steve should marry.”

“What’s this about, Barnes?”

“Do you know how much blood is on my hands?”

“Do you know how much is on mine?”

“Hey,” Barnes smiles coldly. “I never said you are the man to marry Steve, either. He deserves the best. Neither of us are it. God save him, he loves us both.”

“You know he doesn’t care,” Tony insists, not knowing why he is pushing on this. “He doesn’t care about whatever you – whatever the Winter Soldier did for all those years.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” Barnes agrees. “Wouldn’t be Steve if he didn’t forgive every single human being. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night feeling the strangest urge to run him with a knife. Those are the nights I stay awake, the nights that I stay away from him.”

“Dr. Wahla – “

“- has already done enough,” Barnes sighs. “Sometimes, we can’t outrun our past. Don’t worry Stark, I have no illusions about how permanent this is.”

Tony stares at him and takes him in properly. He is thinner than how Tony remembers him, and the bags under his eyes are heavy. He is pale, his complexion an unhealthy color and he is slumped like something heavy is bogging him down.

“Are you alright, Barnes?”

“If you are worried I am going to kill Steve in his sleep – “

“Never,” Tony says adamantly.

“Maybe you shouldn’t trust me so much,” Barnes mutters.

“Maybe it isn’t about whether or not I trust you. It is about what Steve wants. Don’t go about making his decisions for him, Barnes. Don’t break his heart.”

They sit together silently for some more time, watching Steve flit between the First Lady and the Secretary of State, a polite smile on his face. Steve’s brand of diplomacy has always been a force to reckon with. Yet, in the middle of their arrangement, moving between Tony and Barnes, Steve has seemed oddly vulnerable.

For the first time, though, Tony wonders if maybe he and Barnes are more likely to get hurt in this debacle.

“Make it nice,” Barnes speaks a long time later. “Romantic like, rock his world, okay? Give him everything he deserves.”

*

When it ends, it ends with a whimper, not a bang.

There is no big prelude to it. There isn’t even a triggering incident.

Nearly a month after their conversation in D.C., Barnes visits them at the tower. It is a Tony day, and Steve is cuddled on the couch in Tony’s workshop, sketching Butterfingers’ profile. The overhead lights in the workshop glint off the platinum band on Steve’s left hand.

“Bucky,” Steve asks, sitting up on the couch. “What are you doing here? Arm giving you trouble?”

Tony knows just from looking at him. Steve must too, because the next words out of him are pained.

“Buck, please – “

“Steve,” Bucky starts, and his voice is oddly calm. Its coldness is out of place and nauseating, so unfamiliar and unfitting for Bucky’s person. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Steve comes forward to hold Bucky close and kiss him slow and deep.

When they break apart, Bucky stretches on his toes to hold Steve’s face between his hands.

“I will love you, till the end of the line,” Bucky tells him.

“I will love you till the end of the line,” Steve repeats, confused and worried. Bucky turns to Tony.

“Take care of him,” he commands sharply. “I will visit sometime. I will check in. If you break his heart, I swear to God, Stark – I will feed you your own balls.”

“Visit – what are you talking about? Buck, you are scaring the shit out of me.”

“I am going traveling, Steve-o,” Barnes replies. “Made a hell lot of money. Always wanted to see the world. Take a holiday, you know? Think I will leave now.”

“Now?” Steve’s voice is high-pitched and squeaky. A treacherous tear makes its way down his face. “We will – Tony and I will – come along, yeah? Tony? Can we – “

“No,” Bucky says firm and definite. “See, that’s what I am here for, sweetheart. Can’t leave without my dog tags.”

The expression on Steve’s face is horrible, and just like that, he crumples to his knees in front of Bucky, face buried in his hands. Tony moves forward, and with a nod at Bucky, sits down beside him to hold Steve close.

“Give me my dog tags, Steve,” Bucky asks again, because he is a horrible, horrible person. “We had a deal, eh?”

“Is it because of – something I did – what did I do?”

“The world ain’t about you, Steve-o.”

“No,” Steve answers, “But yours is.”

“You are right,” Bucky says, and he sits down beside the two men on the floor, never breaking eye contact with Steve. “Remember Sunday school? Remember King Solomon and the baby?”

Vaguely, he sees recollection pool in Steve’s blue irises.

“It’s like that, yeah?” Bucky continues. “Between the two of us,” he gestures at Tony. “I am the one that might knife you in half someday. He wouldn’t.”

“What are you blabbing on about, you idiot?”

“Our story, Steve, was beautiful ninety years ago,” Bucky explains. “The world has moved on. We have all changed. You have a man here to love you. I think I am going to go find something else to do with my life. Can’t be following your silly mug all the time now, can I?”

“Don’t you love me anymore?”

“Always.” Bucky sighs and runs his fingers through Steve’s blonde hair. “I will always love you. But I am letting you go to build your own life now. This is too fucking hard, Steve, and it is hard enough without a marriage in the mix.”

Steve is now clutching the chain in front of his chest, his fist tightly holding the dog tag pendant.

“Tony,” he begs. “Make him stay.”

“I can’t, sweetheart,” Tony holds Steve close. “We – I promised him. When we first made the agreement, I promised him I wouldn’t stand in his way if this happened. I am sorry. I am so sorry, love.”

“My dog tag, Steve,” Bucky presses. He leans forward, his eyes searching Steve’s expression. They are positioned awkwardly – Tony sitting on the floor with Steve in his lap, his arms around Steve’s waist holding him close. Steve’s arms are around Buck’s body, their faces inches away from each other.

Gently, slowly, with all the patience in the universe, Bucky kisses Steve again, their lips meeting, tongues probing, casting around for one last chance to memorize every cell. Bucky’s graceful finger, both flesh and metallic, fidget with the chain before yanking off the dog tags. Within seconds, without breaking their kiss, the chain is clasped and back in place, only Tony’s key dangling off the silver length.

They break apart slowly, and Bucky brings up his flesh arm to wipe away Steve’s tears.

“Be happy, punk,” Bucky smiles before standing up to leave the workshop.

“What do I do for a best man?” Steve calls out to his back.

Bucky’s ringing laughter seems to resonate in the walls long after he is gone.

~ finis ~

**Author's Note:**

> The Judgement of Solomon is a story from the Bible about two women who come to the court, fighting over a baby. Solomon orders the baby to be cut in half and divided between the two of them. One of the women promptly gives up her child - she'd rather the baby live than get her share. Solomon declares her the mother. 
> 
> Come say hi on [ tumblr ](http://baffledkingcomposinghallelujah.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Comments are loved!


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